"Wyoming?"

Order asked, not bothering to hide any trace of her disdain as she leaned against the wall and sipped at her morning cappuccino. She hadn't bothered to hide it the last twenty-three times she'd made some variation of the exact same comment over the last week either. Order was many things, but she rarely tried to be subtle. They were both a force of personality, but between the two, she had always been the more direct one. An unlearned habit of their twinned existence. They did not mesh perfectly, but neither was their static between them, they simple were. For that morning Order had chosen a form that was close enough to Entropy that they could conceivably be called sisters. An inch or two shorter, less than a dozen pounds heavier, and with the mixed skin tones and facial features that suggested she hailed from her somewhere South East of Poland. Turkish maybe, though perhaps something more European, it was impossible to truly say. She wore a man's suit, something clean and Italian, though obviously tailored to fit her form. A hint of sandalwood had been dabbed her neck, and a light platinum chain  was wrapped around her throat and rested at each wrist.

"What, you would have preferred Vail?"

Entropy answered, from where she prepped in front of the mirror. Unlike her sister, she did not have the luxury of adopting forms as easily as one put on a hat. Instead she needed to attend to her appearance the old fashioned way, a time consuming process considering the level of respectability both were expected to maintain. She wore a form fitting camisole and skirt, in matching grey, that along with the white jacket she'd thrown over the top would be premiering on the runway in Milan in two weeks. It managed to be on just this end of business casual appropriate, a stark contrast to the clean lines, vest, and tie of Order's more masculine get up.

Order laughed, and waved the comment away.

"It's all the same to me, once the Reverie comes. Still, can't fault a woman for wanting to be on the mountains rather than just next to them."

Entropy sighed, adjusting a lash that had somehow come free, and giving herself a final once over in the dresser mirror.

"Fair enough. Let's make it worth our while then, and see what fish the Reverie has brought us?"

She rose, and hand in hand the two left their hotel room and headed in the direction of the main lobby floor. There was something inherently predatory, in the way they each walked. The two a contrasting mirror, and yet so utterly alike in their every motion. Despite the surface level differences in their appearance and personality, when they acted in concert, it was almost as if they were merely one entity. One mind guiding two bodies, two sets of eyes, and two utterly devious tongues.

Say what one might about Wyoming, it understood the need to be inebriated while there. A random stroll across the small town yields fifteen or so bars, pubs, clubs, and an establishment named 'Local Bar'. The sidewalks are surprisingly full from the banking convention, maybe triple the average number of residents. Locals seem to be studiously ignoring the visitors, but several visitors watch the Twins' progress closely at points.

Going with the Brownian motion of the crowds brings the Twins to the Million Dollar Cowboy. It's double down on the camp; mechanical bull, bar stools replaced with saddles, a couple of pool tables, and a fair sized stage with an admittedly expensive looking audio system. Most of the beers are cheap, with executives in eight thousand dollar suits drinking two dollar bottles. Anything with liquor seems to start at forty dollars and top out at two hundred for the house special cocktail. The wine list is crap though, not that the clientele seem to care.

Oh but it is shooting fish in a barrel for the pair, there must be two hundred potential clients here. It's merely a question of what criteria to hunt by.

For the Twins, reality was a fairly malleable substance, subject to their will to an almost unimaginable degree. This fact meant many things, but the thing it meant most was that indecision was no longer a vex with which they were ever afflicted.

They didn't fully understand the mechanics of it, for it was a purely intuitive thing. A natural talent, albeit one they had devoted considerable attention to since it had awoken within them. Once things were settled, once they were significantly more established than they were currently, they had already decided between themselves that they would dedicate themselves fully to unraveling the mystery. For now though, there was work to be done.

It was Entropy, who had the knack for it. She stared at the room of suits and just sort of opened her mind to the possibilities. Within, the infinite realities of the multiverse began to flood in, a hundred billion different possibilities contained within a billion different choices. It should have overwhelmed her completely, should have shattered her mind with the sheet vastness of it all. Even grappling with a fraction of it should have left her a drooling idiot upon the floor. Yet somehow she navigated through that liminal space as if she had been born to it. It was as easy as breathing. Easier, even, given that she seemingly no longer needed to breath. That was the crux of it, truly, for she was so much more than mortal now. In the millisecond that it took her to open herself up to infinity, she already had what she wanted.

That was the art to it, she'd found. It was a matter of Intent. Shaping her Intent cleanly and clearly, focusing it and honing it to a razor's edge. Sharper than that, to a laser point. A single focal desire that everything else was built upon. After that? All she had to do was open her mind, let the multiverse come rushing in, and she would find the reality that had exactly what she needed. It was so childishly easy, to pluck the tangible from the infinite. It didn't even need to be her Intent, she'd found. She could just as easily shape Order's, or anyone else's, should she so choose. As long as the Client gave her enough information to work with, she could shape anything into an Intent.

Here though? Here she had no one but herself and her sister to play the roll of the Client. Here, the Intent was all her own.

She relished it.
This message was last edited by the player at 04:57, Thu 09 Sept 2021.

At the edge of the bar the Twins see him. Hispanic, shaved head, early thirties, short for this crowd (5'7-5'8, executives tend to hover closer to 6'), and built like a fireplug. The suit is custom fitted and expensive but drab. He's smoking a cigar slowly while working his way down a high ball glass filled with a dark amber liquid. In different circumstances the Twins might consider him a bodyguard, but they know the truth. He is the richest creature here, and something has him drinking with a sullen air about him.

The Twins' nature was complicated, a multitude of truths and realities that flickered and faded from moment to moment. What was true one instant was a story the next, and even Entropy couldn't pierce the veil and discern the difference. She could grasp the endless possibilities of the future in a mere instant, but her own past was clouded for her. It was an interesting duality, trying to keep it all contained within their mind. They did not think it had always been that way, that she had only lost the thread of it when they had awoken to their place within the Mythos, but could she really be clear? Even fundamental truths, like the reality of herself and Order as 'the Twins,' was unclear.  They had always been two, and then they had only just been one, and neither Entropy nor Order could tell the difference. Some Facts were immutable, despite the infinitely changing realities about them. Whatever the truth of the Twin's upbringing before they had awoken, they remained. Two or one, they had been born to wealth a privilege, but four years at RISD had afforded them all sorts of experiences slumming it with the friends they had made there. Poor kids invented their own fun, and sometimes that fun translated well to a bar full of Hedge Fund managers nursing Scotch over last night's hangover.

Order moved to the bar, and pushed a matte black credit card across the counter in the bartender's direction. She'd be the one leading this show, leaving Entropy time alone with their new contact.

"Got any Supernova?"

She asked, eyeing the bartender. Her voice was smoke over a frozen lake, rich and warm and hazey.

"The first release, not the 2019, though that will do in a pinch."

There had only been 2,000 bottles of the first release, and most of them were sitting on collector's shelves. It wasn't that much of a long shot though, as this was exactly the sort of place that could cater to such tastes. It wasn't particularly distinguished Scotch, but it was certainly distinctive, holding far more peat than anything else on the market. It was the sort of gimmick that those with money to burn always went in on, the indulgence that was only worth it if you didn't mind dropping a few grand on a passing flight of fancy.

"I need a dozen glasses, whatever you've got on the top shelf, and just to make people's eyes roll a bottle of Everclear."

She laughed, making sure her voice carried enough to draw people's attention.

"And some matches."

Her wicked smile positively oozed with excitement, drawing every eye in the room towards her with little shivers of anticipation.

---

Entropy waited beat for her sister to start the show, and then beelined for the man sitting at the edge of the bar.

"Not you."

She whispered as she brushed his shoulder to pass.

"You're the one this little show is for, but it's not for you. You'd be bored to tears with the whole thing anyways.  Flaming shots of Supernova is certainly a unique experience, but not one you're particularly missing out on."

"Next you'll be asking for Goldschlager," the bartender says with a flat accent as he takes the card and swipes it across the terminal before handing it back, "Local ordinance says one drink at a time per customer. For the Everclear that'll put you over my limit to dispense."

He shrugged as he knelt behind the bar for a moment and there was a metallic click. The sounds of glass rattling occupied a few seconds before he stood back up. 2010, not the original but as close as event this place was likely to have on hand.

"Pretty sure if I give you the matches the insurance adjusters will claim conspiracy. You want this stuff neat and straight?" he asked Order, "I've got sterile cold stones that won't dilute it."

He was going to be a stickler for the rules, then gave Order a small smile.

"Andy! Party of seven at table nine," he called out, loading a tray with shot glasses and pouring without bothering to measure, "No one gets in without passing an age check so keep an eye on these for when your friends arrive."

A rangy blonde cowgirl in flannel button up and denim pants moves the next best thing to nine hundred dollars worth of booze to a table in front of the stage. Order secures matches trivially from one of the five dozen smokers in the bar.

She can be truly distracting.
______________________________________________________________________

Entropy gets close enough to smell the distillery their target appears to have hidden on his person. Bourbon, enough of it to drop a squad of Green Berets and he's stone sober.

"You might be surprised at how little trust this crowd has in strangers walking up to them," he says, tones carefully scrubbed of personality, "The theater is you being bored, not you doing business."

"Fair enough."

Entropy answered, trusting Order to do her work. There was a seat next to him, but the reality she'd chosen within the multiverse of possibilities required that she get him out of there first, so she remained on her feet. She didn't know why, the why of it was simply too many variables to process, that was just the way of it. She picked a reality, and then she followed it.

"But it would be a shame if we remained strangers. Or rather, if your patron and I remained strangers."

She gestured vaguely at the scene unfolding before them.

"Feel like taking that cigar outside for some air?"

Order had plenty to do faking incompetency to delay the two fire extinguishers trying to combat her stunt. They will get away with it but the show has an act or two left.

"Patron," he rolled the word around as though tasting it, "A good word but a little too Roman, with all the senators and elections. I like 'Liege' better."

He removed himself from the saddle-stool with a grunt and nodded.

"Phil," he added as he sidled around the audience Order was drawing while they made for the door, "Do you need your counterpart present for this?"

Entropy threw a glance towards her sister, who was in the process of negotiating the laborious process of ordering drinks for a dozen executives and encouraging them to get into all sorts of trouble.  The barkeep might not let her get away with flaming shots, but there were still a dozen little temptations she could indulge in with them to keep their attention anywhere but on Entropy and Phil.

"She'll be fine, I'm the one she's supposed to look after."

Which was the simple truth. The Twins were the sorts of liars who believed the best lies were always some version of the truth. So much easier to remember, so much less messy and complicated that way. She reached into her pocket and withdrew a silver card case, delicately popping it open and handing Phil one of the crisp eggshell business cards within. The card read simply Telos, LLC in a clean black font, and had a phone number and an e-mail on the back. It was an understated and elegant affair.

"That's the nice part about all of this, how new it all is."

She remarked casually, and her voice was just as smokey and rich as her Twin's.

"We get to pick the names we want them to call us by, shape their perceptions from the get go. With any of that lot there, I wouldn't have a name. I'd just be one of the Twins, and that would be enough for them.  For you and your 'Liege,' Phil? Well, you both can call me Entropy."

And then she was taking him by the hand if he permitted it, and guiding them both outside to a little privacy.

Order seems to be tormenting the bartender but the staff seems well used to handling drunken executives with a light and deft touch. She probably isn't going to cause more than a few thousand dollars in damages total but the show is shaping up to be spectacular.

Phil lets Entropy lead him by the hand for a moment before getting a half step ahead of her. His shoulders and elbow almost magically get people out of the way. He doesn't seem to be shoving so much as making people flinch with the thought that he might.

Wyoming at night has continued to grow colder as they step outside.

"You incorporated?" he asks when they're clear of the bar, "What, are each of you a General Partner?"

Entropy pulled out a cigarette case, withdrawing one and tapping it out carefully.

"Incorporation was an elegant solution to a number of messy complications."

She answered simply, and it was true. Being a combined entity immediately presented one with all sorts of legal hurdles, particularly when one wasn't interested in revealing one's status as one of the newly awakened Mythos to the feds. The legal status of both of them was a complicated affair, and incorporation had significantly simplified things for the Twins.

"That is very much what we do at Telos LLC, elegant solutions to messy problems."

She leaned on the balcony, seemingly impervious to the cold. She wasn't, it would kill her eventually same as any other person, but her body had abandoned such conventions as shivering a long time ago now.

"And very much why I'd like to be introduced to your Liege. Perhaps he has a messy problem in need of a solution, perhaps he is an elegant solution just waiting to be found. I know most of us think we can go it alone, and they might be right, but it seems a foolish thing compared to what we might achieve if we actually collaborated with each other."

She turned and inspected him in the dim light, her eyes piercing it easily to gauge his reaction.

Phil took a minute to mull over his response. He didn't seem terribly worried or eager, more like he was slowly working through a mildly difficult bit of math in his head.

"You understand that he's a very old-fashioned sort. If you meet over phone or facetime or any of that nothing of substance will follow," he told her, "On the other hand, if you meet face to face I believe the two, uhm three, of you may butt heads in a cataclysmic manner."

He shrugged.

"But he is rich even as legends go and can do business if he thinks it'll make him richer still."

She took a long drag of her cigarette.

"Old fashioned?"

She eyed him speculatively.

"Are you suggesting that he's going to have issue with the two of us making eye contact and talking back?"

She chuckled, and her voice was rich and warm.

"Because we can work around that, that is quite literally what we do. We are, to a fault, problem solvers."

"I'm suggesting he's irrationally jealous, paranoid, and greedy. Even odds he'll try to collect or cook the two of you," Phil said bluntly, "We're all grown up monsters so I won't keep you out of his sight in some gallant gesture, but this is the official warning that here there be dragons."

He looked back to the bar.

"Are you going to join us?"

"Ah...."

Entropy drew the word out, her suspicions confirmed by Phil's bluntness.

"A bit on the nose there with the warning, though the gesture is appreciated. Funny that we'll be trying to collect each other then, though I imagine he's much more possessive of his collection than my sister and I am."

She joined him in facing the bar.

"Still, those of us who ally are going to pretty quickly be the one's calling the shots. If he's as domineering as you say, I'm sure he'll be only too interested in what I'm offering, if only to protect what's his. It's a brand new world, and I'm sure it's going to be filled to the brim with Trickster Archetypes. Powerful or not, he's likely going to want to shore up his defenses."

She laughed, her cigarette turning to a dust so fine within her fingers that it almost instantly vanished on the breeze.

"Not that I'd ever be crass enough to spell it out that way in front of him like that, but you get the idea."

She was telling his agent, wasn't she? Chances were good that he'd know.

"So, I have an outstanding obligation to introduce the two of you. That leaves what deal you might offer me," Phil replied, "My particular frame didn't come with great social elan or any of that so expect me to deal with most things like a hammer."

He considered the plume of his breath in the cold night air for a moment.

"Would you like his name? Both of them, I mean. It'll probably let you guess my nature as well."

The universe tightened around the words the man spoke, growing somehow thicker in a way that was impossible to describe. A multitude of possibilities condensed to a single point. Words were dangerous things, around the Twins. The most offhand comment easily fashioned into a lifelong binding pledge with only the tiniest flicker of Entropy's will. She didn't even realize she was doing it, half the time, it was just something that was.

"In exchange you'll get three questions from us."

She answered succinctly, and reality twisted and unfolded as she spoke the words.

"We are, fundamentally, problem solvers. How best to accomplish a project of yours, or thwart one from someone who has irritated you. We will assemble a Dossier for you and ensure it is delivered. When you have acted on the information provided, or allowed the window of opportunity to pass, you may request your next question."

She paused, eyeing him speculatively.

"That should be more than adequate for a round of introductions, no?"

"For purpose of clarity I supply questions, you supply accurate information in answer," Phil replied, "As being promised questions, read literally, would be problematic."

He pulled a bronze hip flask from his business jacket's inner pocket.

"Sealed with a drink," he said before taking a long draw and offering it to Entropy, "Neither poison or curse, by my word."

The Singularity had been building, growing not larger, but denser. As Phil raised his glass, it built to the breaking point, manifesting as a shared reality. Phil was bound, constrained by reality itself to adhere to the terms he had set forth and agreed to. He even bound himself again when he offered Entropy his glass, a far simpler and less intricate binding, but a binding nevertheless. Entropy reached out, and took a long pull. She savored the taste of it, closing her eyes for a moment as she sampled both the new Singularities within her consciousness.

"Bound and sealed then, Phil."

She said at last, opening her eyes and staring at Telos LLC's newest client. A minor case, of course, but a lead on a significantly bigger fish.

"Shall we get to it then?"

She added, offering him his drink back.

"Nicholas. Anthony. Augustus," Phil answered as he tucked away the flask, each part of the name enunciated with clarity and break between, "Once known as Fafner, no mucking about with his time as a dwarf this go around. Business is in New York right now."

"I can find plenty of reasons to be in New York tomorrow."

She hadn't been back since she had awakened to the Mythos within herself, awakened to her new duality. The Twins hadn't had any reason to avoid it, they just hadn't had any reason to be there either. They had both known that business would take them home eventually, it was just too juicy a target. The chances that none of the Mythos had claimed New York City as their domain were so infinitesimal that weren't even worth considering.

"Or do you need more time?"

She didn't doubt that he would make the introduction. He could feel the Singularity now, even if he might not be consciously aware of it. One did not break a deal made with the Twins.

"Yes, I will physically introduce the two of you. Just remember that safety stops once you've met," Phil agreed as he took another slug of his drink, "You have anything else to do in this town? Already bought the bank he was wanting."

While the Twins could feel that their influence was firmly on Phil it was, different, than when used on more mundane targets. He felt substantial, metaphysically dense, like he could pull back on their bond. Fortunately this fish seems content enough with the hook.

"Besides, vacationing in a town in Wyoming seems to miss the entire point."

Entropy didn't answer right away, instead opening her mind up to the infinite multiverse. The Twin's goal was clear, albeit vague. They sought to assemble a network of debts, favors, and obligations amongst the Mythos.

Their aspect was perfectly suited for such a task, with Order forever looking to the present, and Entropy weaving the intricate web of the future. All she had to do was cycle through a billion possible futures, and find the one that brought her closest to what they both desired.

They could certainly assemble a network here with a few days work but the rewards match the risk. By the feel of it some luck eaters, hedge mages, maybe a minor diviner or two. The currency among this crowd is currency and any connections with a mythic master are attenuated. Although something meant that driving out of the place rather than flying would yield more connections.

"You and your Liege were the only other players here, Phil."

Entropy answered, as Order emerged from the bar to join them, just in time.

"We've got what we came for."

She said, and it was a statement and not a question.